To Forgive Does Not Mean One Forgets
by Stephycats7785
Summary: Violet thinks about Tate and what it means to forgive.


Title: To Forgive Does Not Mean One Forgets

Pairing: Violet/Tate

Rating: T for language and such.

Summary: Violet thinks about Tate and what it means to forgive.

Disclaimer: I do not own anyone or anything from American Horror Story!

AN: This is my first time writing for this fandom as I only recently started watching the show and just finished season one. I wanted to try my hand at a short one-shot surrounding my favorite pairing on the show, Violet and Tate. I have no idea if this is good or not, but I liked writing this pairing and I may do more in the future. I do hope you all enjoyed this even if it is a bit OOC. I have no beta reader to so sorry for any mistakes.

When I was a little girl my mother often told me to forgive was a sign of our humanity. I'm pretty sure she meant I should forgive the little boy next door who had stolen my ice cream cone right before I punched him and knocked out one of his front teeth. Still, her advice had some merit in this moment and the tangled web of emotions I found myself caught up in.

If I were to tell my mother what I was even contemplating she would most likely be appalled; Hell, I was appalled by the thoughts running through my head and it was my head. It didn't come as a surprise though because since the moment I first laid eyes on him Tate had taken up a permanent residence in both my mind and my heart; nothing would ever change that and I am accepting of that fact though not happily, but I'm dead and trapped forever in this hell house which is also his prison so even if I wanted to rid him from my heart and my mind, this house would find a way to force him back in just like it always did.

Sometimes I could go months, or it could days maybe even years, it's hard to tell time around this place, without thinking of him or seeing him, but it only took one moment, a lapse in my resolve and it came tumbling back, he came tumbling back in and I would have to start all over again. I am just so tired of fighting a war within myself. I had to deal with shit from the other less peaceful spirits in this house and I simply lack the strength to fight two wars. The only reason I haven't given in already was due to the fact I didn't want my mother to hate me, but she would never hate me, she told me so many times even as recently as today in fact.

Perhaps my mother knew my inner turmoil and that's the reason she had spoken those words to me before I wandered off to think. I would never understand how my mom could forgive him for what he had done. Tate raped her and that thing he planted in her womb was the reason she was dead. Tate had killed her and so many others, he deserved to exist alone, hated by everyone around him, and yet my mother had forgiven him. She may not say the words, but we always had been close and I could see it in her eyes. Maybe she did it for me, or perhaps she did it for herself to have some sort of peace. I guess in the end it didn't really matter it was her choice to make and now I had to make mine.

It would be easy if I could hate him. Sometimes I would stare in to the bathroom mirror for hours willing the hate to come yet it never did. Hate would be peaceful, but I suppose in this house peace was not an option. I knew what he was, a monster, a psychopath with the face of an angel. Tate was the darkness and I had always been attracted to the darkness, I still was in some ways. Maybe that was what forgiveness truly meant. I would never forget what happened, I saw it, I would always see it, but perhaps that was a good thing. Another good piece of advice my mother had once given me was that sometimes, especially when you loved someone, you had to see both the good and the bad and the truth was I loved Tate, I would always love him and while I would never fully forget nor forget what he had done, I could move past it, he could as well. It would always be there haunting us and yet that is what we were doing as well. Maybe forgiveness was the path to moving on.

Looking in the bathroom mirror I took a breath I knew I did not need. I opened my mouth and spoke one word I knew he would hear. "Tate."

End!

AN2: As stated this was just a drabble, but I may expand it one day though I am not sure.

Please R&R like always!


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